


Spring Affair

by crystalcravings



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: if they dont im fighting everyone on sight, need these two to get married, they are slighty younger here!, this is if grace and frankie had an affair instead of robert and sol, this started out as smut and then i made it angsty im sorry yall im emo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 23:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalcravings/pseuds/crystalcravings
Summary: Cheeks reddening in embarrassment over losing control so easily, she opened her eyes and of course right in front of her was the one person she detested most of all. The well-used poster of her younger self, looking at the camera with a coy, knowing smile stared right back at Grace—seeing deep into all the little, nasty flaws within that she tried so hard to never let see the light of day.





	Spring Affair

**Author's Note:**

> im grace/frankie trash and have had this in my folder for months.  
> set sometime in the 80's or 90's, this is set up as if grace/frankie had  
> an affair not robert/sol because lesbians that's why.
> 
> for a soundtrack listen to Spring Affair & Summer Fever by Donna Summer
> 
> enjoy you horny fucks xoxo

Gold plated pens, notepads, and other assortments of office related memorabilia covered the normally crisply clean desk in the “Say Grace” headquarters. The room itself was simple, yet elegant—a tasteful couch in the corner, a small bookshelf to the right, as well as one article of wall decor that featured a particularly youthful looking blonde staring down the camera with a powerful aura about her.

 

Coincidentally, the same woman was currently on the floor, wrist deep in one of the plentiful drawers inside the mahogany table.

 

Pausing for a second in her frantic search contributing to the disarray of her office, Grace sighed, leaning her forehead against the expensive wood finishing.  

 

_Fucking hell._

 

It had been a particularly stressful day of work—she had fucked up a deal which would have skyrocketed the company to god knows where, giving them a great reputation and establishing them as a real _force_ to reckon with in the cosmetic market. But of course—well...needless to say she desperately needed that bottle of _Pinot Noir_ she had stashed in what she called her “asshole relief drawer” to wash away any kind of failure and to just…forget the day as a whole.

 

At least for a drunken hour or two.

 

But of course nothing wanted to go right for her today. _Ever really,_ her tired brain supplied unhelpfully. Pitifully turning around so she was now leaning against the back of the desk, cross-legged, she closed her eyes trying to breathe in and out and think of something calming like her new therapist had told her to do when she got overwhelmed by the world.

 

Her thoughts drifted trying to find something that would help her find her “inner peace.” First, Robert floated in. Her husband meant well, he really did. And she loved him, she loved the gifts, the attention. She was always the prettiest girl in the room with him and relished in it. But lately, Robert had been...distant. He’d become business partners with a odd little man name Sol Bergstein, and quickly had become best friends with him a couple years ago—and the rest was history.

 

But he’s stopped giving her the attention he used to douse her in daily at the beginning of their relationship. She’d come home night after night to a cold bed, fine linen sheets with barely a crease left in them. Sometimes a gift left on the counter, a note attached explaining that “the office had a heavy case and needed Sol & him to fill out extra paperwork, sorry honey..”

 

So...she'd immersed herself in her work, in being in charge which she was so, _so_ good at and most importantly being out of the house as much as humanly possible. The icy-brick two-story they’d bought after Robert’s aunt left it to them was never her favorite, and it’d become even less so in recent years. Her daughters were beautiful...but she just wasn’t—being a mother was never a dream of hers either. Being a CEO, being needed, being the most important woman in the room was something she relished in. Children had never been on that list. Was that selfish of her? But Robert had wanted kids, so she had them...and at 43 nonetheless.

 

Now she was 50, with two little 7 year old children running amok and stressed constantly from her ass to the moon. Work was stress, home was stress everything was stress, stress, stress.

 

_Everything and everyone except—_ her mind supplied suddenly. Except _her._

 

Her heartbeat stopped and stuttered forward a bit, just thinking about the ball of energy in her mind's eye and how much they really...threw her for a loop.

 

She was not going to go down that rabbit hole right now. Nope, not today. At least not without any liquor in her veins to lead her through her feelings.

 

Taking uneven breaths now, all she could _really_ think about was that this hippie “meditation” stuff could really suck it. Because she was no calmer now then she was 30 minutes ago after cursing in the face of a man who had insulted her so much that she saw _red_ and had just completely lost it. She hated the misogynistic asshats who littered the business field in general, but this one had just really gotten under her _skin._

 

Cheeks reddening in embarrassment over losing control so easily, she opened her eyes and of course right in front of her was the one person she detested most of all. The well-used poster of her younger self, looking at the camera with a coy, knowing smile stared right back at Grace—seeing deep into all the little, nasty flaws within that she tried so hard to never let see the light of day.

 

_Yea, that’s working out swell_ , Grace scoffed to herself. At this rate her company was barely going to make it through another quarter, let alone be on the cover of Fortune 500 or do anything of note in the future.

 

She could feel her father's disappointing stare and shake of his head like he was standing in the room watching her now.

 

Forcing herself to stand up, she glanced around her office, balking at the mess she’d made.

 

_Jesus Christ,_ she had to get a grip!

 

And maybe take a trip to the nearest liquor store for a shot. Or two.

 

_Or four._

 

No sooner had she found her purse and shrugged on a fashionably tailored blazer—-there was a sudden knock on the door.

 

Violently thrusting a middle finger towards the ceiling, she groaned, dramatically rolling her eyes with a huff.

 

There was nothing less she wanted to do then deal with a client right now.

 

“Yes?” she called out, rushing to the mirror on the side of the room, swiftly putting her messy blonde locks into a quick updo, grimacing at the heavy bags under her eyes. _Ugh._

 

The knocks continued, now bouncing in some sort of odd—yet familiar rhythm. _What the hell? Didn’t whoever the hell this was know she could fire them for annoying her like that?_

 

Floofing her hair into place, she quickly sat back down, picking up a magazine, and discreetly sliding some of the mess onto the floor behind the desk. Best to look somewhat organized even though her life was really in shambles at the moment. The Hanson M.O. 

 

Putting on her best _“don’t-fuck-with-me-I’m-the-boss”_ voice she cleared her throat, looking down at what she hoped looked like important paperwork in her freshly manicured hands.

 

“Come in!”, she called out. “Make it quick, I’m a busy person,” she added in afterthought as the door slowly cracked open.

 

“I could make it quick, but I suspect you wouldn’t like that,” an all too familiar voice quipped back in a sing-song way.

 

_Oh._ Sweet. _Hell._

 

Someone up above was _really_ having a fun time fucking her in the ass today, huh?

 

"Frankie,” she hissed, jumping up faster than than the speed of light to close and after a second thought, _lock_ the door as she rigidly stood in front of it crossing her arms angrily.

 

“What are you _doing_ , here?” she directed at the woman, who was looking back at her with a smirk on her face, arms crossed as well.

 

Graces heart pounded in her chest as she took in a soothing breath looking down at the blur of fabric in front of her.

 

The woman was dressed in a wrinkled Blondie T-Shirt, long brown slightly-graying curls spilling out in every which way usual, with random chunky jewelry cluttering every surface of her body. On anyone else her outfit would look an utter mess, and she would mentally be making a note to never be seen with them in public ever again, but for some reason on _this_ woman…

 

_She looks good,_ the beauty mogul thought bitterly. _Really good_. Abruptly she felt a jolt down below as she glanced down at the younger woman’s full pink lips, noticing they were slightly moistened by...saliva? Lip gloss? She didn’t know, and didn’t really care since regardless those lips could do a lot of things she thought she would never...

 

“My eyes are up here sweetheart,” the crystal-laden woman replied back, eyebrow raised in amusement at Grace’s blush in response. _Real smooth, idiot._ As she spluttered, trying to gather her bearings, the self-certified sleuth took in her office, glancing around halfheartedly before plopping herself unceremoniously on the couch like she'd lived there half her life.

 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Grace tried again indignant at the lack of response, but mostly at the fact that her vodka was waiting for her on the front shelf of the nearest Monster Beverage and she was now most likely not leaving _anytime_ soon.

 

The object of her distress seemed to not notice her petulant mood, as she peacefully closed her eyes, folding her arms behind her head, letting out a sigh. “Well, I indulged earlier with my Kenny Loggins fan club, who by the way make _amazing_ spaghetti enchiladas, and I had an quite the epiphany.”

 

“And just what epiphany did you have that you felt the need to barge in here to annoy me for?”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Frankie playfully shot back, peeking open one eye to watch as Grace huffed, setting her purse down on the messy desk table.

 

“You know why I’m not happy that you’re _here_...” the older woman muttered back, bringing a long veiny hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She was getting a headache from all this.

 

And Frankie of all people being staring at her like that wasn’t making it any better in the slightest.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

_Was kind of question was that?_

 

She scoffed against her palm, looking away from the person who was somehow _always_ on her mind much more than she consciously planned.

 

“I’m fine.” She was. Really. “I just—it’s just...it’s been a long day,” she trailed off defeatedly.          

 

_Of men, and bullshit, and no liquor._

 

_No sex._

 

She was ready to jump out the office window at this point. Mostly from the headache that was threatening to split her forehead open, but more so to how her body was reacting to Frankie being in her general vicinity.

 

And if anyone had seen her come in, she’d have _a lot_ of explaining to do.

 

But no sooner as she had the thought, a hand was on her shoulder, slowly massaging small circles into the blade. _Fuck, that felt good. Was she a massage therapist as_ well _as an alpaca farmer in her former life??_

 

“Are you really okay..? You can talk to me Grace,” Frankie softly let out, mild concern lacing her voice. She was always so nice and caring. The total opposite of how mostly everyone else in Grace’s life treated her. Not that she made it easy to do so….

 

Grace melted into the touch slightly, turning her head slightly to the left to see Frankie staring at her with _those_ eyes. _They really are exquisite,_ her mind supplied, as she took in the view.

 

She loved them. She would never tell her, she wasn't sure if she'd ever find good enough words to describe how they made her feel..but it just surprised her sometimes how similar the bold ocean blue irises were to her own faint icy blue….yet so, _so_ different at the same time. They glimmered with mischief and light and had tiny little gold flecks around the edges when she laughed that made Graces heart flutter every-time she was close enough to get a good look. And so warm...

 

Starting this— _thing,_  affair whatever it was— with Frankie was something she never, in a million and ten years saw coming.

 

Since the moment Grace had met the gemstone wearing, radical-as-all-hell, pot-smoking hippie she had _hated_ everything about her. Literally. How could someone be so blatantly irresponsible and childish yet still be a mother of two children and have such a nice life? She had it instilled in her since birth, be pretty, be polite and above all do what she had to do to succeed and uphold the family name. And that’s what she did. Yet..she had felt so incomplete with it all. So unhappy.

 

And she found it so _frustrating_ that everything she had worked _so_ hard for, Frankie had been able to obtain seemingly without even trying. A loving husband, and children who adored her ( even if they were little ransacking devils when they paired up with her own little girls at family get-togethers ).

 

Maybe that’s what eventually drew her to the frizzy haired optimist so much. It was so odd. Grace had tried her best to do anything she could to stear clear from her since the start—and yet it seemed the “universe” had other plans.

 

“I—um,” she started, stumbling over her words as Frankie waited patiently for a coherent answer. She froze, stock still as Frankie’s suddenly tongue peeked out the corner of her mouth to lick her already moist plush bottom lip, making them even more so the focus of Grace’s attention. It brought her back to last week's rendezvous with they had met briefly at the beach house when she’d been between her legs giving Grace the one of best orgasm’s she’d ever had in her _life_ , while their husbands were right in the living room next door with the children…

 

Her pulse skyrocketed in record time.

 

_God, yes she wanted her again, she wanted Frankie so fucking badly she couldn’t even_ stand _it._

 

It was so _wrong._  Simply put. Having an affair, humping each other like school-children every chance they got. It was wrong on so many definable levels.

 

But maybe that's what drew her to it so much, like a boy in the girls bathroom.

 

What they were doing—not the loving another woman part since honestly...she’d always deep down thought—well. She’d had ‘encounters’ so to say in the past, fleeting moments, secret glances at women in scantily clad magazines...but they were nothing like how she felt when she was with Frankie.

 

And it scared her.

 

Also, there was the fact that they were both married...she should be loyal, even to Robert who made her feel nothing and so was the woman currently stroking her arm, making her breaths start to come out unevenly, and warmth slowly spreading over her whole body at her simple touches.

 

Frankie stared at her calloused hand on Graces arm, slowly tracking her gaze back up her body and biting down on her full bottom lip, even glancing at Grace’s slightly ajar mouth for a second before looking into her own eyes with a sudden seriousness in her expression, making Grace wetter every single excruciating second.

 

_Sweet bible thumping Jesus, if she didn’t get touched soon she was going to explode._

 

“Well…,” Frankie paused, smirking slightly pausing, as if she could read Grace’s desperately horny mind.

 

"After my spaghetti taco feast, I came to a realization that I’ve never visited you at work before..” she trailed off as her left hand traveled down to Grace’s thigh squeezing it slightly, while the other continued to massage her shoulder.

 

“I didn’t know you’d be so stressed out and I wanted to talk to you about something but—maybe I could help you ah...feel a bit better?” Frankie continued, the side of her mouth turning up hopefully as she watched Grace’s eyes widen in response and her breath start to come out even more rapidly than before.

 

_She has to know what she’s doing to me,_  Grace thought, brain shorting out slightly as Frankie’s fingers fluttered around her thigh, squeezing slightly in response to Grace’s light moan.

 

At this right she’d have a heart attack before another orgasm. Or possibly both at the same time.

 

_God!_ She shouldn’t want it this bad. _She shouldn’t._

 

But when she stares back down at the younger woman it’s as if her body gravitates towards Frankie's orbit...and she just cannot seem to stop herself from giving into the magnetic pull.

 

Grace doesn’t even respond, how can she? What can she really vocalize other than the fact that she needs this right now, she needs to forget her problems, she needs _those_ lips on her and she needs it in this instant or she’s going to scream.

 

Leaning over, she inches forward, her nose so close to Frankie’s that she grazes it slightly, and in response she sees the brunette's pupils dilate and her breath start to come out in slight pants in anticipation. Grace turns her head slightly to right wanting to savour the moment, as Frankie does the opposite, slowly inching towards the other until they come together at last.

 

She pulls her lovers plump bottom lip between her’s instantly suckling on it slightly, making Frankie moan wantonly in return, the sound shooting straight to her groin.

 

_Sweet lord._   _She could do this all day._

 

They deepen the kiss, slowly making out in the hottest possible way. Their tongues intertwine, battling for dominance as the get more into it by the second. Licking the roof of Frankies mouth, Grace really couldn’t _believe_ that she’d waited so long to do this, but knowing that also gave her the drive to explore everything she possibly could with this woman who drove her up a wall. Literally and figuratively.

 

Breaking apart for a moment with a wet smack, she watched as the corner of Frankies mouth turned up slightly, as she playfully poked her tongue out the side of her lips again.

 

“Guess that was a yes?”

 

It was a thing she did usually when she’d made a funny quip at someone’s expense, but in this moment it was all Grace could do to not melt to the floor in a puddle of arousal at the sight of it.

 

Trying to compose herself for a moment, she tried to glare at her counterpart, but from Frankie’s vantage point it most likely looked like a poor attempt to regain some semblance of the control that Grace normally liked to have.

 

“We could get caught..,” she trailed off as Frankie started to trace circles into her thigh.

 

“I know…” Frankie started guilty, “I wasn’t even going to come honestly but….” She looked up at Grace with an intense stare, eyes darkened in a way that made her heart skip a beat.

 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about finishing what we started the other night,” she finished forlornly, pouting her bottom lip out slightly while her hand traveled lower, closer to exactly where Grace needed it to be.

 

They _could_ get caught. Her office was high up, high enough that no-one would look through the large windows and even see them. _But someone could barge in, or knock or—or—oh god but she couldn’t think straight with Frankies hands on her like this._

 

It was wrong, what they were doing was  _bad_. It would be detrimental if she got found out, she’d lose the hard earned respect she tried so hard to maintain as a woman leader in the business world.

 

But something about getting caught was so— _arousing._ Just thinking about it made her heartbeat quicken right back up again, the small thing pounding so loudly in her chest that she wondered if the woman slowly tracing the inside of her thigh noticed.

 

Picturing someone barging in and seeing her and Frankie here, those well-worn hands covered in her juices, her pink swollen lips on her neck, _marking_ her high strung body, making her keen for release, for _anything_ —-drove her batshit crazy with need.

 

She opened her mouth to try to reply but stuttered to a stop as Frankie’s fingers faintly started stroking the outside the waistline of her slacks.  _Fuck._

 

Grace was already soaked through her panties and even slightly through her $300 Gucci work pants, but she couldn’t care less than if there were flying pigs taking over the office then to stop Frankie now.

 

They both silently watched as Frankie’s fingertips continued to trace around her slacks, two fingers eventually slipping in making contact with her moist lace panties. She gasped at the same time Frankie did, feeling her partner's hands tremble slightly as they both felt exactly how _wet_ she was down there. Watching--every part of her pulsing with anticipation--as Frankie slipped a finger inside her warm folds and those eyes that Grace adored so much, widening slightly as the blonde’s wetness engulfed around hands. There was no sound in the room except for their ragged breaths.

 

“Oh..god..”

 

Not being able to watch any longer, Grace closed her eyes leaning her head on Frankie as the other woman murmured into her shoulder, running her moist lips along the older woman’s neck, sucking slightly at certain points that she _knew_ drove the other woman senseless, while continuing her ministrations down below.

 

“Grace...sweetie your so _wet..._ oh my god..” she whimpered at Frankie’s surprised tone, slightly embarrassed at how little it took for Frankie to make her body react like this. She couldn’t remember ever feeling _this_ aroused for anyone before, let alone this woman who she shouldn’t even be friends with— let _alone_ be about to let fuck her senseless against her own wooden office desk.

 

But yes. That was exactly what she wanted. Grace’s life seemed to love to work in opposites that way...until eventually she gave up and leaned into it.

 

_Fuck it._

 

With renewed energy she surged up, pressing her lips against Frankie's with a new hunger in her. She tasted the remnants of something Frankie must’ve of drank before she came in, something sweet. _So good,_ her weak brain supplied as she swept her tongue inside the darker haired woman’s mouth, tasting what she could, gasping in unison with her lover over and over again. Her lips felt so perfect against Frankies slightly fuller, but oh _so_ soft ones. It was heaven. Or hell. Or both honestly. Everytime they connected, everything she ever didn’t understand was suddenly brought into sharp focus, like she would never be sad or alone again if she could keep kissing her friend like this for eternity.

 

They separated slightly with a wet smack, both panting from the heated energy of it all.

 

Smiling crookedly to one side, Frankie got up off the desk moving in front of her until she was hovering inches above Grace’s lips, her earlier lipstick all but gone now, she could _feel_ how puffy and used they were currently. Deftly, she took the one hand that was still stuck in Grace’s drawers out between them both, leaning in slowly to watch Grace’s reaction as she rubbed both fingers together, then of of a sudden--popped each of the glistening fingers into her mouth, closing her eyes as her tongue swirled around each one…

 

_Lord…._

 

Her pulse jumped sky-high as Frankie stared hungrily into her eyes, using her other hand to tilt up Grace’s chin and taking the other woman’s trembling bottom lip in her own, sucking on it for what seemed like 30 seconds straight, just how she liked it and— _sweet fucking hell_ —-leaving her utterly dripping through her underwear, her mind melting at the thought of doing anything other than surrendering to anything Frankie had planned for her at this point.

 

“Someone’s needy today..” Frankie chuckled under her breath in response, but her expression and shaky voice showed a different story. Grace loved when she was looked at like that, like she was the grandest, most cherished prize in the room.

 

Like now, as Frankie’s sex-starved gaze trekked a path down Grace’s disheveled body.

 

“Like what you see?”

 

“Hmm…I’d like it a lot better if there was more skin showing. I mean mother nature gave us these godly womanly vessels for a reason,” she replied hand moving steadily against Grace’s clit again, as if daring the unhinged CEO to rise to the challenge.

 

And she was never one to back down for anyone. Or anything.

 

Surging forward with her previous fervor, she took Frankies lips into her own again, kissing her with everything she had. It was a desperate, needy kiss, one that made them both press against the other as much as possible, to get all points of contact that could be made. Frankie moaned in response, her unused hand reaching up to cup the side of Grace’s face, then traveling down to start to unbutton her crisp blouse.

 

Unwilling to wait for the shirt to get undone, Grace huffed as she separated from the kiss to tear the shirt off her sweaty form in one solid move.

 

Her white lace Victoria Secret bra was see-through for today. _Well, that’s fitting,_ she thought smugly as she watched Frankie’s eyes widen in surprise and her mouth fall open.

 

She expected a joke in response, or possible a quip at her spending so much on things like lingerie when baby elephants needed saving, but instead suddenly hands were cupping her small breasts and squeezing and molding them to perfection. _Sweet Aunt Helen, how did she know how to do that so well?_

 

Grace arched her back, trying and failing to fight the onslaught of arousal at every touch, abruptly shouting as moist lips touched an erect nipple sucking so hard that she almost saw white. She moaned, running her fingers through Frankies long, tousled curls, praying that this feeling would last forever, that the other womans lips could wash away everything she’d been through in her life, and make everyone okay for once.

 

She hummed, as the pressure of the lips lessened and started trailing lower. At some point in her haze, Frankie had shifted her pants halfway down her legs, leaving her matching set of panties on show for the whole room to see.

 

Getting down on her knees Frankie chuckled, as she touched her fingertips delicately over the damp white lace barely covering her dripping wet folds.

 

“All of this...for me,” she trailed off, looking up at Grace as if asking for approval. Grace’s brain short circuited as she looked down at her vantage point taking Frankie in—-her unfocused eyes, wet lips and tousled hair made her look so ethereal. She was…. honestly the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen.

 

Nodding her head quickly, she let out a quick—“Oh!”—as Frankie quickly slid her panties down her legs, taking in the clean shaven folds in front of her. There were soft pink and glossy, and _oh god she could feel it her arousal_ practically  _dripping_ onto the carpet as she watched the other woman get into position..

 

She couldn’t bare to look down at Frankie….she turned her gaze to the ceiling praying to every deity that no-one would knock on her office door asking for anything within the next 20 minutes.

 

Imagining them walking in to her husband's business partners _wife_ ’s curls, stuck between her thighs, eagerly lapping up her juices as she begged for release and—— _Ah!_

 

She quickly looked back down, grabbing a fistful of curly hair between her legs, just in time to see red swollen lips warp around her molten hot center. She stared--her vision going blurry-- as Frankie closed her eyes humming in contentment, head bobbing up and down as the vibrations from that traveled up Grace’s entire body igniting her hips as they gyrated rapidly in an off-key rhythm up against that beautiful mouth, as the woman who changed her life, ate her up like a starving man finding an oasis in the middle of a desert, tongue fitting perfectly around her aching folds, transporting her to another realm of existence.

 

_God, they could’ve been doing this for ages,_ her brain hazily supplied, as she moaned extra loud, gripping those brown curls for dear life as she rode her lover’s face with wild abandon. _Yes, yes, yes._ A hand found its way to her breasts again, squeezing just enough to amp her arousal up even more, shoving her hips up again, almost choking Frankie with the force of it. Fuck it was good, she was so close. So close she could feel it shooting up from below, God. 

 

“Sorry--I-,” she gasped out, as Frankie pulled her head up from her soaking mound, chest heaving like she’d just ran twenty miles at once.

 

“Sorry for what?..”the other woman retorted sarcastically, as she plunged a finger inside, knocking the breath out of her lover once again. Seeing stars, she cried out in encouragement, as those painters hands stroked in and out, in and out, curving up to hit exactly where she needed it. _Fuck!_ It was better than any dick she's ever taken, any dildo, even her own goddamn fingers ( which were pretty long as far as fingers go ). No coherent thoughts were going through her mind, just ecstasy, and _yes yes yes Frankie please, she was almost there, just a little bit more oh god,_ her orgasm building up steadily, especially as cool lips latched onto her clit again the combination too much for her to handle..

 

“Come on baby,” she suddenly heard in her ear, as she was flipped over, bending over the desk, ass up to the world. “You want this...don’t you?,” Frankie murmured against her, slapping Grace’s red ass with her free hand, while thrusting into her with as much fervor as Grace had ever seen Frankie put into anything ever in her life. It was unbelievably hot with Frankie up against her like this from behind she could feel every little nerve ending.

 

The ministrations slowed for a second, as the other woman cupped one of her ass-cheeks and waiting for an answer, slowly going off-rhythm again.

 

“I’m waiting..” she murmured, fingers going even slower, but the pressure was enough to make Grace explode for real this time.

 

“Yes!” she practically screamed, “Oh god,, fuck me please...Frankie I'm--” she got cut off as Frankie growled in response, plummeting her fingers full force back inside, leaning over Grace to kiss her neck. It was heaven. The rhythm was back, they rocked against each=other practically shaking the desk as she clawed at the wood to hold onto sometime as Frankie fucked her harder than ever before. She was in heaven! She was dying and in heaven and getting fucked better than she’d ever gotten fucked in her life. She was so close again, god what was she doing to her? As quickly as she had stopped, Frankie's fingers worked like magic within her, getting her right back onto the edge like before, she couldn't take it.

 

“So-so close,” she whined out, practically crying as Frankie, trailed kisses down her naked back, until her face was nuzzled in between two white cheeks, forcing Grace to arch up into her mouth once again, begging for her life.

 

Suddenly, her legs started shaking as Frankie went further down, her tongue going in and out at a rapid pace. She could faintly hear whimpering and moaning, faintly realizing it was her, and she couldn't give less of a fuck as she tensed up, her back arching up, two hands were squeezing her asscheeks, her whole body _tensed_ \--

 

Two things happened at once---

 

Seeing _white_ she let out a shout, collapsing against the desk, relishing in the orgasm that felt like it was just ripped from her soul, face squished against the desk, saliva everywhere but completely content to lay there for the remainder of the evening with Frankie against on top of her for the rest of her life.

 

But of course nothing was ever easy for her, not even in the thrones of passion.

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

They both froze, Grace turned over, taking in Frankie still on her knees on the floor mouth agape, glistening with Grace's essence and sweat slathered all over her... _she never looked better_ her sex rattled brain supplied needlessly in response.

 

“Ah..”she cleared her throat shakily, “....yes? Who is it?"

 

God. She prayed to the heavens that no-one had heard them because she knew damn well, she was _not_ quiet under any circumstances….especially mid-life changing orgasm circumstances at that.

 

“Hey sweetheart, it's me...we have dinner tonight at 4 remember?” a voice that shot straight to her heart.

 

_Shit._

 

How, _how_? Could she have forgotten?

 

“..I'll be right out, honey, just wait downstairs? I'll be down in a moment!”

 

“Take your time dear!” Robert called back through cheerfully, as they listened to his footsteps and the elevator ding for the bottom floor.

 

Quickly pushing herself on off the desk, her legs wobbled slightly, she stumbled, Frankie catching her before she fell ungracefully onto the carpet.

 

“Wooh…, she chuckled, “Guess I did quite a number on you…”

 

She’d tried to sound sorrowful but Grace could tell she was internally gloating. And it should have made her feel guilty...but instead all she wanted to do was push her against the wall and give her back something in return.

 

But Robert.

 

“Shut up..”

 

She mumbled as she sat on the floor next to Frankie for a second, leaning her head on her shoulder as the other woman stroked her hair back into place.

 

”Your not okay..” she murmured into her wispy golden locks, Grace could feel her brow furrow slightly as her fingers traced circles aimlessly onto the floor. “I knew something was up…”

 

Frankie’s voice had a touch of sadness in it, and something else the other woman couldn’t quite place. Forlorning? She hated this. Hated feeling so amazing...with someone she shouldn't be feeling like this with. But she knew it was an even bigger risk for Frankie as well. After all her and Sol had a much different relationship than Grace and Robert did. Much more trusting, and wholesome and  _real._

 

Looking up at her...ah...well she really didn’t know _what_ call Frankie. This woman who had done so much for her, who'd waltzed into her life made her realize so much about herself, who didn’t make her feel not good enough or too mean or cold-hearted. This woman who saw through all of that and dared to look beneath the surface. She gazed back at Grace, with a small smile...her warm eyes portraying everything she was feeling as always. Grace looked into her gaze seeing that she was actually worried for her, which made her heart constrict in two. _It shouldn't be like this._

 

“It’s my anniversary..to Robert today. I forgot all about it.”

 

Frankie stopped stroking for a moment before starting up again, but slower.

 

“I’m sorry sweetie..”

 

_It wasn’t fair._

 

She got up, letting go of Frankie's hand, traveling back to where she had plopped her purse down earlier.

 

“Grace..:”

  
“Don’t. Frankie not now.”

 

Grabbing her things from where they lay scattered around the room, she tried not to be self-conscious as Frankie sat still and watched silently as the other woman gathered her bearings, finally putting the pieces of her outer-shell back together that the other woman had so carefully dismantled apart moments ago.

 

After checking her reflection for the final time, she turned back.

 

“Do I look okay?”

 

"Ethereal..as always."

 

She really had forgotten. This was her life now.

 

Forgetting and remembering. 

 

Destroying.

 

“I have to go..please, wait till I’m gone to leave...”

 

Picking up her purse she started out the door, turning back behind her, she glanced at Frankie who had finally gathered herself together as well, the other woman still strangely silent as she gazed back at Grace with a sad look in her normally vibrant eyes.

 

There was still so much not being said.

 

It was on the tip of both of their tongues, it was felt all around them. But they both knew they couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet.

 

Pushing herself off against the desk, Frankie made her way towards Grace until she was right in front of her, standing for a second before leaning in to press her cool lips against her own smaller lips one last time before leaving.

 

“Happy Anniversary,” she whispered after parting, sauntering out the room.

 

Touching her lips she smiled slightly, relishing in it.

 

“Put some chapstick on… I don’t want him stealing the gift I already gave you today, he can give you his own,” she tossed offhandedly over her shoulder, laughing wildly as Grace sputtered in response, her clogs trudging down the empty hallway until she was out of sight at last.

 


End file.
